


A Matter Of Unity

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Past Draco/Female Character, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Romance, Scorbus pre-slash, epilogue kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After catching the boys fighting, Professor Longbottom encourages Albus Severus and Scorpius to make a fresh start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter Of Unity

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was originally written for the first round of the Phoenix Flies Fest at IJ/GJ and has been slightly edited since.  
> Disclaimer: The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine. This story was written for fun, not profit.  
> Warnings: DH Spoilers, AU, fluff, slash, daftness.  
> Pairings: Albus Severus/Scorpius (pre-slash), Harry/Draco (Neville/Luna, Blaise/Ginny, Ron/Hermione).

A sharp voice cuts through the serene silence of the corridor.

"You vile, pathetic wanker! What the bloody hell did you have to go and do that for?"

The tall, blond boy turns around in an overly dramatic manner, all wavy shoulder-length hair and billowing robes, and he replies with a devious smirk, "Oh, I don't know, Potter. Let's call it a science experiment of sorts, shall we? Perhaps I wanted to observe Hugo Weasley as he splattered about in his natural habitat."

The shorter, dark-haired boy clenches his fists in fury and snaps back, "You pushed him facedown in the mud, Malfoy, and as if that wasn't bad enough already, you magically held him down there for almost ten minutes, too! And during all that time, he wasn't able to move. He could hardly breathe. He might have suffocated on the spot, or drowned or died or—or— _something_."

"Please, Potter." Scorpius rolls his eyes. "Do me a favour; as if I'd ever risk going to Azkaban for the likes of him."

"Well, who can tell? Maybe you would. From what I've heard, your whole family's got a season ticket there."

At those words, kicks, punches and hexes start to fly.

Fights like this have been a common occurrence ever since that fateful September evening three years ago when for the first time in two decades, a Potter and a Malfoy faced off against each other in the Halls of Hogwarts.

Not before long, assorted students stop and stare and some even come closer for a better look.

None of them intervenes, however, for fear of getting caught in the crossfire. They haven't yet forgotten what happened to Cassandra Finnegan last year, how the poor girl was accidentally turned into a purple pixie when she tried to pull Albus and Scorpius apart.

These days, waiting for a teacher to show up is generally considered the more sensible option, and today it's the usually gentle and much-liked Professor Longbottom who happens to stumble upon the fighting duo.

The man shakes his head at the sight, and clears his throat. "That's quite enough of that, gentlemen," he snaps, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "You two are just as bad as your respective fathers were, if not worse, and frankly, the entire school body has been subjected to more than enough of your despicable antics. Follow me, please."

Albus gets up from where he lay sprawled on the floor, and inhales deeply. He has a nagging suspicion that the staff members are absolutely livid this time, not merely annoyed, and that the consequences of today's brawl might go a little farther than a simple detention.

Dragging their feet (well, metaphorically speaking in Scorpius' case; his father would never approve of him slouching about the place) the boys silently follow the Herbology teacher to his office.

"Take a seat," Professor Longbottom says in an unexpectedly stern tone. Scorpius briefly wonders whether his father would be angry or proud upon learning that his son was expelled for beating the living daylights out of a Potter.

The boys do as they're told, and the man continues, "As has been customary for the past five years, on next November fifteenth, we will hold an Open School Day here at Hogwarts. An exciting event for parents and students alike, as I'm sure you'll agree—"

Albus and Scorpius can't but smirk at that, and even though neither makes a sound, the "yeah right" is practically written all over their faces.

"The theme of this year's Open School Day is House Unity," Professor Longbottom adds. "Therefore, the headmistress and myself thought it would be fitting for some presentations to be given. We agreed that the two of you would be ideal candidates to hold a little speech about the Founders, and particularly the Founders of your respective Houses."

"You mean I have to talk about Rowena Ravenclaw?" Scorpius asks, confused by the unusual nature of the punishment. How is this even a punishment at all, he wonders? Unless Professor Longbottom's grand plan consists of trying to bore them to death so they'd finally behave. In that case, it might just work.

"No, Mister Malfoy, you will be reading up about Salazar Slytherin, the original Founder of Mister Potter's House, whereas Mister Potter will be writing a presentation about Rowena Ravenclaw."

Scorpius smirks. This will be a piece of cake. His father and grandfather have been singing Slytherin's praise for as long as he can remember.

Understandably, Scorpius' family wasn't over the moon when he was sorted into Ravenclaw instead of the Serpent House, but at least it wasn't Hufflepuff or (perish the thought) Gryffindor, so his father remained proud of him—for the most part.

Albus looks less confident than Scorpius, and he also wonders whether all the research he'll need to carry out for this assignment will leave him any spare time for Quidditch training.

It's not a pleasant thing to ponder. Unlike his dad, Albus isn't a natural talent at the sport, and if he's to beat that new Hufflepuff Seeker, he's going to need all the practice he can get.

   
***  
 

The following afternoon, all third-year students have a free period, but not so Albus and Scorpius. They've been stuck in the library for the better part of two hours when Albus puts his head in his hands and lets out a long, weary sigh.

"What is it, Potter?" Scorpius enquires, clearly annoyed.

"This is so bloody boring," comes the exasperated reply.

"For once," Scorpius says, leafing through the pages of a thick book and gritting his teeth at how the ancient ink still stains his fingers, "I actually agree with you. Next thing we know, we'll have to read the complete _Hogwarts, A 'sodding' History_ in order to get this blasted thing done."

"My cousin Rose is obsessed with that silly book," Albus offers.

"Tell me something I don't know, Potter," Scorpius remarks dryly. His father told him about Bookworm Granger ages ago and Scorpius knows from personal experience that the woman's daughter is equally insufferable, and just because Rose Weasley happens to have been sorted into his House still doesn't mean he also has to like the overachieving little bint, _thank you very much._

"This is a stupid assignment," Albus grumbles. "Not to mention pointless. The only reason I pick on you in the first place is because you're an irritating plonker who's always pestering my friends and me. Your House has nothing at all to do with it. If you were in Slytherin with me, I'd still kick your arse from here to Hogsmeade."

"Likewise should the Hat have been daft enough to place you in Ravenclaw, Potter," Scorpius says and he hopes that the sneer accompanying the retort is enough to conceal his sudden urge to snicker.

   
***  
 

The first week of the two they've been given comes and goes without any notable incidents.

On the ninth day of their punishment, Scorpius looks at Albus' sloppily written parchment and remarks, one eyebrow raised, "What the buggering bollocks is this tripe supposed to be, Potter?"

"Hey!" Albus protests, quick to defend himself. "I got all that biographical information from the encyclopaedias if you really must know."

"I don't doubt that you did." Scorpius smirks condescendingly. "But I wasn't referring to the contents, Potter. I was talking about your narrative. It's flawed. In fact, it couldn't be more flawed if Gardenia Goyle had thrown it together on a whim and then given to a blind house-elf to proofread."

Before Albus has the chance to get a word in edgewise, Scorpius clears his throat and starts reading out aloud:

"The bloke she fancied was getting it on with some other bird, and when that slag told half the village that she was up the stick— Incidentally, there are two 'l's in village, Potter, and an 'a' too, though I must say your atrocious spelling is really the least of this essay's problems."

"Right," Albus cuts in before Scorpius can continue. "So what am I supposed to put, then?"

Scorpius furrows his brows in concentration. "How about: 'Sadly, her love remained unrequited and when she learned that the mistress of the man she pined for was with child…' "

"Yuck." Albus screws his face up in disgust. "Where do you even get all that crap from?"

"Don't you 'yuck' me, Potter. Do you want to pass this assignment with flying colours, or not?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Good. Here." He hands the boy a fresh piece of parchment and a newly sharpened quill. "Start writing."

   
***  
 

"How are things going with the boys?" the blond woman asks, petting the small, purring bundle in her lap. "Are they getting along any better yet?"

"We haven't had to intervene so far," the man behind the desk replies with a small smile, "though I'm still not entirely convinced that this was such a good idea, love."

"Oh, Neville, you always say that." She gives him a dreamy smile. "But tell me, when have I ever been mistaken about such matters?"

Neville clears his throat. In truth, there are a lot of things he could say to that and most of them would involve creatures that don't exist or worlds that have yet to be discovered outside the realm of his wife's vast imagination, but in the end, he chooses to play along like he always does. After all, Luna is perfectly happy living in her bubble, so why would he be so cruel as to burst it?

"You're the one teaching Divination, dear," he finally replies. "So I'm sure you know what you're talking about."

She gives him another happy smile, but the faraway look in her eyes makes him wonder whether she has even heard him.

   
***  
 

"I suppose this is satisfactory," Scorpius declares, having carefully gone over the words in front of him for the third time. "So, how will we proceed? You present the Ravenclaw bit and I do the Slytherin part?"

"Um—"

Albus shudders involuntarily. The painful truth of the matter is that he hates public speaking. The very thought chills him to the bone, and he thinks that it were probably little details like that which made him end up in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor.

He highly doubts that brave Gryffindors feel a strong urge to throw up before they have to appear on stage. Their kind most likely doesn't even flinch before dragons, whereas Albus—

He swallows hard as he recalls the lasting and terrible impression he made at Lily's tenth birthday party.

He stammered his way through the small speech he was expected to give, but things were still going reasonably well until he realised that every single person in the room was looking straight at him. Then he promptly fainted and landed, face down, in his sister's birthday cake.

Even today, the memory makes him cringe with embarrassment. The only thing that could have made things worse back then, he decides with a wry smile, was if the blasted candles had already been lit.

"Albus? Hello? Earth to Potter?"

Albus looks up and notices a pale hand waving in front of his face. He takes a deep breath. "Sorry, Malfoy," he mumbles. "I was miles away."

"Yeah, I could tell." Scorpius gives his companion a calculating look. "What's going on, Potter? Anything I should know about?"

"Er—" Albus takes a deep breath, and blurts out everything, because all things considered, it's probably better to have one person laugh at him now rather than the entire school later.

Scorpius just shrugs. "I'll read out both our presentations then, while you project the pictures and illustrations onto the wall. You know all the right spells for that, don't you?"

Albus nods.

"And taking care of that won't make you nervous to the point where you get stage fright and mess everything up for the both of us?"

"No," comes the timid response. "As long as I don't have to say anything in front of a whole bunch of people, I'll be fine."

Scorpius smirks. "You know," he says, "maybe it's even much better that way. I'm far more articulate than you are anyhow."

"Yeah." Albus snorts. "Not to mention how much you love the sound of your own voice."

"What's not to love?" Scorpius drawls.

Albus rolls his eyes, but at the same time, he also gives a small smile. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

   
***  
 

"Seeing your son and mine will be giving a presentation together shortly, you might as well sit there, Potter," Draco Malfoy says dryly. "Here all by yourself, are you?"

"Yes," Harry replies and takes the seat next to the other man.

"Isn't Ginevra accompanying you today?" Draco continues conversationally.

"No," Harry replies flatly, "she's on her honeymoon."

Draco raises a curious eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Didn't you know?" Harry looks puzzled. "We've been separated for five years. She married Blaise Zabini—an old friend of yours, I believe—two weeks ago."

"Did she? I'm no longer in touch with any of my old Housemates," Draco says curtly, and adds, "My congratulations on being able to keep that little marital meltdown out of the papers, however. Sadly, I was less fortunate."

Not quite sure what else to do, Harry only nods. He remembers the headlines quite vividly: some of them speculating on Draco Malfoy's sexual orientation, the others more concerned with how large the divorce settlement would be.

Not for the first time, Harry is extremely thankful that he was able to end things with Ginny on a far more amicable note.

   
***  
 

Thunderous, heartfelt applause resounds through the Great Hall. Albus and Scorpius take their leave and disappear behind the curtains.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Scorpius says with a smile.

Albus shakes his head and smiles back, looking quite pleased with himself.

"See, I told you it would work, didn't I?"

Albus nods. "Thanks, by the way."

"What for?"

Albus shrugs. "Helping me. And to tell you the truth, I actually enjoyed myself out there. I know it was supposed to be a punishment, this presentation thing, but—"

"Oh, presentations can be quite fun. Besides, this sort of thing is good practice for me." Scorpius' voice is dripping with confidence. "Someday I plan to go into politics, you know."

"Oh." Albus hasn't a clue what to say to that or whether he should even say anything at all. Most likely, Scorpius is just acting like a self-important prat again, but oddly enough, that kind of behaviour no longer bothers Albus. Perhaps he has finally grown used to it.

"Right. I'd best be off then," Scorpius adds. "I have to go and say 'hello' to Father and such."

"Your father was sitting next to my dad," Albus remarks. "That's kind of odd, isn't it?"

Scorpius shrugs noncommittally.

"What? Don't you think so? They've always hated each other."

"Maybe things have changed?" Scorpius suggests and with that, the boy walks off.

Left standing there alone, Albus wonders whether Scorpius has become his friend now, or if it was only some temporary truce for the benefit of both their grades.

He guesses time will tell, although secretly he also hopes they won't go back to fighting.

   
***  
 

Albus wanders outside. A few feet away, he can see Scorpius talking to Mister Malfoy, who appears genuinely proud of his son.

"Nicely done, Al," Albus hears a voice behind him say.

Albus turns around and smiles. "Thanks, dad."

"So…" The man grins. "Did Neville's evil ploy to make you and the Malfoy brat friends amount to anything?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Albus answers honestly.

"Ah."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, Dra— Mister Malfoy has invited us both to join him and Scorpius in Hogsmeade for lunch, but if that would be awkward for you…"

"No, it won't be. Not at all," Albus says quickly and then adds as an afterthought, "Unless he's going to go all snippy on me again." Then something occurs to him. "But won't having lunch with Mister Malfoy be odd, though? For you, I mean?"

Harry shakes his head slowly and Albus is stunned to see his father's face flush.

   
***  
 

Lunch is a rather bizarre affair.

While their fathers are discussing Quidditch, books and other things, but carefully avoiding anything to do with the past, Albus gives Scorpius a meaningful look.

Scorpius catches on instantly. "Father," he pipes up, "would it be all right if me and Albus went and looked at some of the shops? We've been cooped up in the library for most of the past two weeks. A stroll in the fresh air would do us both the world of good."

Draco waves a dismissive hand in response and doesn't bother to correct the 'me and Albus' his son just uttered; something he would definitely have mentioned otherwise.

Scorpius frowns, but eager to escape, he only says, "Come on, Al," and soon the two of them are walking around Hogsmeade, laughing and chatting and looking like they've been chums for years, not mere days.

"We should probably get back," Scorpius says after a good hour of window shopping, and after having devoured a delicious chocolate ice cream cone each.

"Yeah," Albus agrees, and hesitantly adds with a small smile, "You know, this has been fun, too."

"Yeah." Scorpius grins. "It has."

"So, um, maybe- maybe we should do this again?" Albus blurts out.

"If you'd like. How about next Hogsmeade weekend?" Scorpius suggests.

"You're on."

The boys look at one another and grin widely.

   
***  
 

Two weeks later Albus plops down onto the grass next to Scorpius. They've taken to meeting by the lake every Wednesday afternoon to study Potions together.

"You know, Scorp," Albus remarks out of nowhere. "I think we're missing something essential."

"How do you mean?"

"Lily said something to me earlier," he begins carefully, "about my dad and your father going to a Quidditch match this weekend, together, and apparently, dad Owled Aunt Hermione for advice."

"Advice? What kind of advice?" Scorpius enquires, genuinely curious.

"Er— advice on what to wear."

"Really? To a Quidditch game? That's most peculiar. Does your dad even swing that way, though?"

Albus frowns in confusion. "How do you mean? Dad doesn't swing at all. He's horrid at dancing. Mum used to tease him with it."

"I'll leave it up to you to discover another possible meaning of that word, Potter," Scorpius says pointedly, with an amused roll of his eyes.

   
***  
 

Three hours later, Albus is slightly wiser but none the happier for it. Directly after dinner, he accosts Scorpius in the corridor leading to the Great Hall.

"You mean— Oh God. They don't— They can't be." The boy looks every bit as frantic as he sounds. "I hope they don't think we— I mean, you're really pretty for a boy and everything, but— er, well, I—"

Unable to stop himself, Scorpius bursts out laughing. "Thank you kindly for the compliment, Potter, but I'm hardly my father."

"No. No," Albus blurts out. "Neither am I— er, my father, I mean. And I'm not your father either, obviously, um—" He quickly snaps his mouth shut before more unintelligible gibberish manages to escape.

"All right, Potter," Scorpius says, "now that we've both established that we're not our own or each other's fathers, you'd better head back to Slytherin. It will be curfew soon."

Albus nods dumbly.

"And you know," Scorpius adds with a cheeky grin, "you're not at all bad on the eyes yourself, Albus."

"Um, right, okay. Goodnight, then."

"Sweet dreams, Potter."

Blushing furiously, Albus turns on his heel. He jogs back to the dungeons, all the while wondering why Scorpius must keep on teasing him so, even now that they're friends.

   
***  
 

When the invitation to spend the Christmas hols at Malfoy Manor arrives, Albus is only partly surprised, and when he learns that his dad will be present as a guest too, the boy doesn't even blink.

He does wonder why Lily won't be accompanying them also, but he suspects James talked her out of it.

James is such a mummy's boy, even though he's also a Prefect this year, and when Albus considers the pros and cons of spending time with the prat who happens to be his big brother, he decides that he really doesn't mind that it will only be Scorpius and himself at the Manor.

Well, along with their respective fathers, of course.

   
***  
 

On the second day of the hols, three days before Christmas, Albus looks out of the window and spots the two figures standing by the frozen pond.

"Bloody hell, they're snogging," he says, aghast.

Scorpius leaps up from the sofa and directs his gaze outside, too.

"Please tell me we're not seeing what I think we're seeing, Scorp," Albus says.

"I'm afraid that honesty compels me to tell you that we are," comes the dry response.

Albus huffs. "You're no help at all, Malfoy."

   
***  
 

"Would you like to go for a sleigh ride?" Scorpius asks the following day at brunch. "There's a thick patch of snow. We could go all the way to where the estate borders the forest. The trees there are breathtaking this time of year."

Albus frowns. "Um, shouldn't we ask our fathers for permission first?"

"Not to spook you or anything," Scorpius replies with a small smile, "but I don't expect them back downstairs for a while yet. I don't want to speculate what they've been up to in Father's room, with the door locked, all night and for most of the morning, but—"

"Um, me neither," Albus interjects quickly, as he feels himself go slightly pale.

"So, sleigh ride it is?"

Albus nods and jumps up from his seat. "Definitely. Let's get the hell out of here."

   
***  
 

Huddled together under the thick waterproof blankets, the boys let the horses guide them through the stunning winter landscape, which is even more spectacular than Scorpius described or Albus expected.

The ground is whiter than white, the trees glisten with snow, and the sky is a beautiful kaleidoscope of colours.

"Lily would love this," Albus says softly.

"You should definitely bring her along next time," Scorpius suggests.

"You wouldn't mind?"

"No, of course not."

They sit in silence for a while, until Scorpius asks, "Are you cold, Al?"

"No, I'm fine," Albus says a little too quickly, but he doesn't object when his friend puts an arm around him. Instead, he scoots slightly closer and rests his head on Scorpius' shoulder, simply because things are much nicer that way.

   
***  
 

Harry pours a second cup of tea and feels two arms wrap themselves tightly around him. "Can't get enough of me, Draco?" he asks with a soft chuckle.

"You're a fine one to talk," Draco replies, kissing Harry's cheek. "You're lucky no one broke down my door to see if we were still alive."

"Yeah," Harry says with a sigh. "I'd been meaning to talk to you about that… How do you propose we tell the kids about this, about us? We can't keep them in the dark forever."

"Slowly and carefully?" Draco suggests with a smirk.

"We already know, Father," a smug voice behind them unexpectedly declares. "We're not daft, you know. Well, I'm not, at any rate. The jury's still out on him."

"Hey!" another voice protests, but the indignation in its tone clearly isn't genuine.

Stunned, the two men turn around to find Scorpius and Albus standing there. The boys' hair is full of snow, their noses are red, their cheeks are rosy, and Harry thinks it's astonishing how they almost look like exact replicas of Draco and himself at that age.

Harry smiles and gives his son a sheepish, almost guilty look, whereas Draco meets Scorpius' gaze head-on and winks.

   
***  
 

A week later, the four of them stand on the platform, huddled closely together to shield themselves from the icy January breeze.

In the nearby distance, Ginny and Blaise Zabini nod politely at Harry, and then Blaise smirks at Draco, who returns the smirk promptly and with conviction.

Ron Weasley, meanwhile, gives Harry a curious glance, and Harry grins awkwardly in response.

Albus decides that there's probably a lot happening here that's far beyond his comprehension, but as long as no one's fighting, he doesn't suppose the specifics matter much.

Albus runs over to hug his mother—only briefly, because he's getting too old for that sort of thing, and besides, Scorpius is watching—and then the train arrives.

Together with his brother and sister, Albus makes his way towards it.

"Behave, you lot," Ginny calls after them, smiling, "and don't forget to write!"

"I'll Owl you soon, Father," Scorpius says. He holds out his hand for Harry to shake and adds, "Goodbye, Mister Potter, see you again at Easter."

   
***  
 

When the train starts to move, Albus looks out of the window.

His dad and Scorpius' father are walking in the direction of the exit. The two men are linking arms and not bothering to hide the fact that they're an item now, and Albus assumes they must be happy. His dad certainly looks a lot less stressed than he did a few months ago.

"Everything all right?" Scorpius asks in a concerned tone, and he takes Albus' hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Albus replies quickly, and he's suddenly very much aware that he's holding hands with a boy, something he's been doing with unsettling frequency lately, but luckily the girls on the bench across from him don't pay the matter any mind.

Lily only smiles sweetly at them both, while Rose is too busy reading to still be very aware of her surroundings.

After a few seconds' hesitation, Albus carefully links his fingers with Scorpius'. Then he casts a shy, sideways glance at his friend, and the dazzling smile he receives almost makes his heart stop.

No, Albus can't deny that Scorpius is very good looking, not to mention really smart, and he can be quite sweet too when he makes the effort, but still…

Albus doesn't like boys in that way.

_Really,_ he doesn't.

 

*


End file.
